


Shared Memories

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Death, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Hurt Thomas Jefferson, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I’m sorry, M/M, NB Lafayette, Non-binary character, RIP, The Storm Chapter™, This Is Sad, also my first fic uwu, because that’s not overdone, idk what to tag but pls give it a go :)))), sorry if there are mistakes., there are feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24072265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ‘It was an understatement to say that Thomas was afraid to die. He was petrified; he had too much to live for. But as he lay against the cold floor of the abandoned warehouse, he felt nothing but peace.‘OrThomas reflects on the happy memories with Alexander.
Relationships: Adrienne de Lafayette/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	Shared Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for checking out my fic :)  
> Just a few trigger warnings:
> 
> Mentions of the f slur (though it isn’t used in speech.)  
> Death  
> Panic attacks (i will put a ++ where it starts and ends)
> 
> That’s it :)

It was an understatement to say that Thomas was afraid to die. He was petrified; he had too much to live for. But as he lay against the cold floor of the abandoned warehouse, he felt nothing but peace. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but Thomas was sure he could hear distant voices far away. He thought one sounded just like Alexander. The man scoffed. As if Alexander would care enough to come looking for him. Nobody cared about him. Life would probably go back to normal. They probably didn’t even notice he was missing. Thomas felt something wet run down his cheek. It landed it his mouth. The tear was salty. For what seemed to be the millionth time, Thomas cursed himself. Real men don’t cry. That’s what his father had drilled into him. Men aren’t emotional; men don’t cry; men love girls. But those morales that had so carefully been built up had been picked apart, carefully, lovingly, by the highlight of his life. But those walls were back up; years of therapy and love and care, all gone in an instant. Be he would never forget who tore them down. As Thomas’s vision clouded, he recounted his shared memories with Alexander.

****

September 9th 2015

The weather was freezing. Even though it was barely autumn, everywhere was covered in ice. Thomas grumbled as he wrapped his Magenta scarf tighter round his neck. He cursed the weather. Why today, of all days did his car have to break down? Now he was going to be late and make a bad first impression. First impressions are key. It’s in those moments that you figure out what your relationship with that person is going to proceed as good or bad. Most people that Thomas met had been pricks that his father had considered good role models. But he had mastered putting up with them. He’d thought this time would be no different.

To say that his new roommate was an idiot was the biggest understatement known to man. Thomas didn’t even get the chance to introduce himself before the asshole had looked him up and down and left the room. So much for first impressions. Shrugging it off, Thomas walked over to the unoccupied side of the room. Alexander Hamilton (which is what was written on the front of the mound of notebooks on the desk) had clearly only arrived a few hours ago, as all of his belongings were scattered across his bed and the floor.

Thomas buried his head in his hands as he sat down on the bare mattress. What had he done to deserve this? His roommate clearly had no interest in him. If his charisma hadn’t charmed Hamilton, clearly nothing was going to work. Thomas knew he shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but he couldn’t help it. Although he didn’t let on, he was terribly self conscious; that comes from years of being bullied by your parents. 

“So, Thomas Jefferson huh?”  
Thomas looked up at the person standing by the doorway.  
“I’m Alexander Hamilton.” He stuck his hand out for Thomas to shake.  
“I’m aware.” Thomas merely eyed Hamilton’s hand and went to sit on his bed.  
“Well damn, no need to be such an asshat” Hamilton shot back. “You’re just like your father it seems. Such a shame, I hoped you’d be different.”  
Ouch. That stung.  
“Don’t talk about what you don’t know about.”  
“Wow. No need to be so touchy.”

That’s when Thomas Jefferson decided that he hated Alexander Hamilton.

****

June 29th 2016

Not much had Changed in the year that Hamilton and Jefferson had met. They still hated each other. One good thing was that Thomas found out that his french cousin, Lafayette had transferred over from Europe and was studying in the same college as him. Just because he hated Hamilton’s guts didn’t mean that Thomas couldn’t take advantage of his debate skills. Jefferson and Hamilton were unmatched when it came to debates. Both were extremely skilled in that arena and made the perfect couple for arguments.

Alexander wasn’t just skilled in debates, he had a way with words in general. Thomas would find that out soon.  
-  
-  
The weather was hot outside and Jefferson’s was clad in a simple purple button-up and ripped jeans. He and his best friend since kindergarten, James Madison, were sitting on a small patch of grass on campus. James was lying down and Thomas had his head on James’ ankles. Those few minutes in just each other’s company were peaceful; the sun was shining and there was a slight breeze. 

Thomas sighed and went to close his eyes when he was interrupted by Madison’s legs moving out from him. He grumbled in frustration.  
“Jemmyyyyyyy why nowww? I was gonna sleep.” He complained, “stayyy pleaseee.”  
James rolled his eyes.  
“You’re so needy.”  
“Cmonn, we never get moments like this.” Thomas protested.  
“Well for one, stop exaggerating,” James started, “and I need to go because Dolley needs me for something.”  
“Fine.”  
James shot him a smile. “You’re the best.”  
“I know.” Thomas mumbled.  
As Madison walked off, Jefferson shouted, “I HATE YOU.”  
James shot him the biggest shit eating grin known to man. Fuck him, Thomas was going to the library to study.

Thomas thought about his girlfriend. His Martha. The way her smile lit up the room, the way her hair shone in the light, the way she looked at him. As he trudged to the library he thought about how much he longed to see her. He sat down in one of the scratchy chairs and pulled out his Chemistry book. He hated Chemistry. It reminded him too much of- no, he didn’t need to think about that. Thomas cast his eyes back down to the book.

A few paragraphs into the page, Jefferson noticed someone sit at the table next to him. Just his luck. It was Hamilton.  
“Jefferson.”  
“Hamilton.”  
“So, whatcha studying?.”  
“Non of your business.”  
“So cold.”  
Hamilton walked over and craned his neck to see the book Thomas was reading.  
“Chemistry huh?” He began, “was daddy not rich enough to get a tutor?”  
“Shut up Hamilton.”  
“Or did he not love you enough?”  
“I said shut up Hamilton.”  
“Oh I’m sorry, have I touched a nerve there?”  
Thomas bit his cheek.  
“For your information, my father did get me a tutor and she ended up being my girlfriend.”  
“Wooow, how much did daddy pay for her to do that?”  
Jefferson narrowed his eyes  
“Where is she now?” Hamilton continued, “did she leave you for someone better?”  
“Hamilton...” Thomas warned  
Alexander ignored him. “You know i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if your mommy and daddy payed her; I mean, who would want to be with you and your pretentious attitude. I bet she left because she couldn’t put up with you. I can’t even bear to room with you. Yeesh. How did you of all people get a girlfriend-“  
“She’s dead.”  
There was a silence  
“What?”  
Another pause.  
“She was hit by a drunk driver two years ago.”  
“Oh”

++

“Shit man I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t know..” Hamilton ran a hand through his hair. “God I feel awful now.”  
“It’s fine, its not your fault.” Thomas put his head into his hands. He felt a tear run down his check and hastily wiped it away; it wouldn’t be good to cry in front of Hamilton, he would probably think he was weak. Thomas felt his breath begin to quicken; he was too weak, it was his fault she was dead, he should’ve gone with her in the car, she was gone and it was all his fault. Everyone hated him now. He was such a failure; that’s why his father hated him; that’s why his mother died; that’s why his Martha died. His hands began to shake. He could hear someone saying something. He was never gonna get his Martha back. His Martha who cheered him up when he was sad; his Martha who comforted him when his father bullied him; his Martha who was there when he was sick; his Martha who-

++

“Jefferson.”  
“Jefferson!”  
“THOMAS!”  
Thomas’ head snapped up to see who had shouted. It was Alexander. He was probably mad because Thomas was crying-  
“Hey, count with me, one, two, three, four, five..” Alexander seemed, worried?  
Jefferson took in a shaky breath, “o-one, two, three, f-four, five.”  
“Good.” Hamilton encouraged, “un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq..”  
“Un, deux, trois, q-quatre, cinq.” Thomas repeated.  
“Can I touch you?” Alexander asked.  
Thomas nodded. To his surprise, Hamilton pulled him into a hug. He was startled but hesitantly wrapped his arms around the immigrant.  
“I am so, so sorry.” Alexander started. Thomas noticed that he sounded genuinely sorry, “I was jealous, ever since John and I broke up I’ve been really missing him. It was for the best though.”  
Jefferson paused. “Thanks.”  
Alexander was silent.  
“You would have liked her, she was like you.”

Later, both of the teens would deny that anything happened between them.

****

October 2nd 2016

****

****

Ever since the library incident, Thomas and Alexander had warmed up to each other. They wouldn’t go so far and say they were friends, but they tolerated each others presence and could sit in a room with each other for longer that five minutes and not argue. Of course they still had arguments, but they weren’t as hostile as they used to be. Just a quick insult about Thomas’ awful fashion sense here, a jab about Hamilton not being able to shut up there, but it was bearable.

Thomas put up with Hamilton. He might even go as far to say that he liked him. He definitely respected him after what happened the other month. So rooming with him didn’t seem that much of a big deal anymore.  
-

The wind was howling and the sky was dark. Thunder rumbled in the distance. A storm was rolling in. Jefferson wasn’t bothered by storms, he quite liked them; there was something about being inside whilst hell rains down outside that seemed peaceful to him. But it apparently didn’t seem like that to a certain Caribbean immigrant.

As lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, Thomas busied about making Mac and cheese in the kitchen. As he was about to get a bowl, he heard muffled sobbing coming from their shared bedroom. He paused.  
“Alexander?”  
No response.  
“Alexander?” He asked slightly louder.  
Still no response.  
Thomas sighed and put the bowl down in the counter. As he walked towards the bedroom, the cries become louder and more frequent.  
“Hamilton, are you okay?” He called  
Once again there was so answer.

Thomas entered the bedroom and found nothing but a lump under the bed. He sat down next to it.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He whispered.  
Jefferson might not have been friends with Hamilton, but he knew that he had to repay him for the library.  
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, just come out from under the covers.” He reassured.  
There was a brief silence, then some scrambling under the covers, and then Hamilton’s head popped out of the duvet. Tear streaks ran down his face and his hair was tangled together. He looked like a mess. Thomas’ heart melted.  
Alexander sniffed.  
“I-I don’t like storms. Bad history.”  
Thomas paused. “That’s okay, we all have fears.”  
He paused again.  
“Have you ever wondered why I refuse to sleep without the lamp on?” He asked, “nobody except James knows this, but I’m scared of the dark.”  
Hamilton chuckled, “yeah and it’s bloody annoying trying to get to sleep with the light on.”  
Jefferson thought for a moment.  
“If you sit out this storm with me, I’ll sleep without the lamp on for the rest of the week.”  
Alexander hummed, “I can try.”  
“That’s good enough for me.”

A particularly loud crack of thunder happened and Alexander whimpered, burying his face into Jefferson’s chest. Thomas’ eyes widened in surprise, before he pulled him in closer. It was slightly uncharacteristic for him, but he knew how it felt. Hamilton’s hands grabbed the fabric of Thomas’ shirt. He turned red.  
“Can you sing?”  
“What?”  
“Can you sing?”  
Thomas thought that it was an odd request, but he didn’t complain.  
“If you want me to.”  
Alexander nodded. Thomas breathed in.

Frère Jacques  
Frère Jacques  
Dormez-vous?  
Dormez-vous?  
Sonnez les matines  
Sonnez les matines  
Ding, ding, dong  
Ding, ding, dong  
Frère Jacques  
Frère Jacques  
Dormez-vous?  
Dormez-vous?  
Sonnez les matines  
Sonnez les matines  
Ding, ding, dong  
Ding, ding, dong  
Ding, ding, dong  
Ding, ding, dong

Alexander’s hands loosed on his shirt, and his breaths evened out. Thomas subconsciously ran his fingers through Hamilton’s hair. How was his hair so silky? He was slightly jealous of Alexander’s hair; all his hair did was get tangled, and the annoying thing was that he couldn’t put it in a ponytail or everyone mistook him for Lafayette. The similarity between them was uncanny.  
As Thomas looked at Alexander’s sleeping face, he felt his cheeks heat up; since when was Hamilton so cute? Come to think of it. Thomas did really love Hamilton’s smile, and the way he walked, and his fierce attitude, and how short he was, and the way his eyes lit up when he talked, and the way he could write for hours at a time, and.... Thomas’ train of though trailed off as he came to a realisation. Holy shit. He had a crush on Alexander Hamilton.

Jefferson Laid his head back down onto the pillow and closed his eyes as thousands of thoughts buzzed around his head: what if Hamilton didn’t like him? What if he did like him? How was their relationship going proceed?

Thomas felt his thoughts jumble together as he descended towards sleep. But he was interrupted by a smell.. a smell of burning? 

He shot out of bead.

“SHIT, THE PASTA”

****

December 15th 2016

Summer hadn’t lasted long; it had started getting cold around mid-august. Alexander and Thomas were friends now. The only people that Thomas had told about his crush were James and Lafayette. Madison did a double take when he had told him  
— “Hey, James.”  
“Hi, are you okay?”  
Thomas bit the skin on his lip. “Yeah, its just, I need to tell you something.”  
“Go on..” James probed.  
“I- I have a crush on Alexander.” He blurted out.  
“Alexander...Hamilton?”  
Thomas nodded  
James sniggered. “Wow, good one Thomas, imagine! Pah, honestly, you crack me up-“  
James saw the look on Thomas’ face.  
“Wait, you’re serious?”  
“...yup” —

Lafayette had a vastly different reaction.

— “Hey Laf, I need to tell you something.”  
Lafayette hummed.  
“Yeah? What is it?”  
“I have a crush on-“  
“Hamilton?” They finished.  
“Alexander Hami- wait what?”  
“It’s so obvious!” They laughed, “The way you two look at each other, honestly. If I didn’t know better I’d say you two were dating!”  
Thomas looked at them.  
“What do you mean by look at.. each other?”  
“Ohhh, he hasn’t told you yet?” They smiled. “It’s not my place to tell you.”  
“What-?”  
“Shoot, I’ve got to go, Peggy’s doing my nails and I’m already late!”  
“Wait-!”  
“SORRY, I’LL SEE YOU LATER, GOOD LUCK!” They shouted as they ran off, leaving Thomas stranded in the middle of the car park. —

Jefferson sat in the library, looking at the screen in disbelief. His mouth hung open. His father had been arrested for drug possession and abuse. What? That couldn’t be Thomas’ father. His perfect, conservative father. His father who had raised him. His father. This couldn’t be real. If Thomas was honest, he would say that he was happy; he hated Peter Jefferson with a burning passion. The man who had abused him as a child. The man who had blamed his mother’s death on him. The man who called gay people f*gs. Thomas’ breath caught in his throat. He didn’t notice a certain someone coming up behind him.  
“What’ve you got there?”  
Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin.  
“Uhh, nothing.” Jefferson quickly shut his laptop.  
“Right.” Hamilton didn’t seem convinced. He paused. “I was- I was wondering if you wanted to come to the Washington’s with me on Christmas?” Alexander started.  
Thomas stared at him.  
“-I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I-I’m sorry, that was a bit stupid, you know what? I’ll go now if you want me to-“  
“I would love to.”  
“-sorry for bothering you- oh.”  
Thomas chuckled. “I cant come until after lunch because I’m visiting Laf and Adrienne, but I would love to come in the evening.”  
“Oh, alright. I-I’ll see you then.” Alexander shot him a nervous smile and Thomas’ heart fluttered.  
“See you.”

****

December 25th 2016

It was snowing. White drifted down from the sky. Thomas was used to the snow, it wasn’t special, but today it felt magical. He had spent the afternoon with Lafayette, Adrienne and James, and they enjoyed a meal together. Lafayette was one of the best cooks he had ever met. He guessed that had come from living in France.

As the sky became dark and the sun set, a knock was heard on the door. Thomas excused himself from the game of cards against humanity that they were playing (everyone in the room was shocked to find out he’d never played before) and headed to the door. It was opened to reveal a rather flustered Alexander. He smiled.  
“Hey Alex.”  
“Hi”  
“It’s cold outside, why don’t you come in?”  
Hamilton shook his head “I don’t want to be a bother to Lafayette or anyone.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Alex nodded. Thomas leaned back in the doorway, trying to see where Lafayette was.  
“One minute.”

Thomas walked back into the living room and announced his departure. Adrienne asked if he wanted to take any food with him, but he politely declined; he was about to eat again after all. After many goodbyes and thank you, Thomas was finally able to return to Alexander, who was shivering.  
“Sorry I took so long.”  
Alex rolled his eyes. “Cmon, lets get in my car. I’m freezing.” His nose was red. He wrinkled it.  
“You’re so cute when you do that.” Thomas said without realising.  
“Huh?”  
“Uh nothing. There was um a.. bat and i said it was cute.” Jefferson blushed and he was grateful that it was too dark to see.  
“Sure.” Hamilton didn’t seem convinced but didn’t press further.

All of a sudden, Alexander stepped on a patch of ice and went flying. Luckily, Thomas was right behind him and managed to catch him before he hit the ground. There were a few moments when both of them froze; their faces inches away from each other’s. After a few seconds, Thomas coughed and set Hamilton straight again. They nervously laughed.  
“So uh.. My car’s here. Do you wanna get in?” Alexander spluttered.  
Thomas nodded. “Oh yeah I-, I’ll jump in.

The trip was mostly silent apart from a few scattered comments about the weather, or school, or their friends. Thomas couldn’t stop thinking about Alexander’s eyes; the way they shone like the stars with bits of gold flecked between the forest green. Thomas blushed, his mind wondering into stuff he shouldn’t think about. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  
“We’re nearly there.”  
Thomas turned his head to stare at the man sitting next to him. “Oh, y-yeah ok.”  
He cursed himself for being so nervous. Alexander obviously didn’t feel the same way about him. He’d only asked Thomas to come because everyone else was busy. But the southern man couldn’t help but linger on the way Hamilton had looked at him when he’d slipped. His pupils gad grown large, and he hadn’t broken eye contact. Thomas secretly hoped that his affection was returned.

Around five minutes later, the car pulled into a driveway framed with fairy lights and flowers. Alex smirked. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”  
Thomas was shaken out of his daydream, and could only respond with a quick, “oh yeah. It- it’s really pretty.” Before the car came to a halt. Thomas pulled the wine that he’d brought out of his bag. Hamilton eyed it.  
“You didn’t have to.” He stated.  
“Yeah I did, its the right thing.” Thomas replied.  
“Such a true southern gentleman.” Alexander mocked.  
Jefferson sniggered. “That was nothing like what I sound like.”  
“Shut up.”  
Thomas laughed.

The Washington’s, it turned out, were really nice. They shook his hand and accepted his wine with big smiles. Thomas vaguely knew George because his father used to work with him, but they had never talked. His wife, Martha, reminded him painfully of his mother. His mother, however, couldn’t cook to save her life, but Martha definitely could. Wow. The food was amazing. Just as good as-or maybe even better than-  
Lafayette’s (though Lafayette still had out-of-this-world skills.) Thomas doubted he’d ever eaten this much food in his life.

They had homemade tomato soup for starters. It tasted nothing like the canned soup Thomas was used to having; it was tangy and sweet and creamy all at the same time. Thomas had read rooftoppers when he was younger, and this was exactly what he had imagined the soup that Sophie and Matteo had made tasted like. For mains, they had crispy potatoes, carrots cooked in butter, sweet potatoes, mash, parsnips, onion gravy, cheesy leeks and a roast chicken. The chicken was one of the best foods Thomas had ever had the joy of eating. It was juicy and smoky, and didn’t have a single piece of fat or gristle on it. That wasn’t it though. For dessert, they had a trifle made by Martha and a Christmas pudding. Thomas had never eaten a trifle before, and was amazed at all the different textures and flavours in it. The Christmas pudding tasted great; the fruit and alcohol mixed together tasted amazing, not to mention the fact that it looked amazing when they had set it alight. Both Thomas and Alexander finished the meal off with a few glasses of wine. That was the most Thomas had enjoyed a day in a while. He was grinning ear-to-ear.

After Everyone had cleared up, Thomas and Alex retired to the sofa. They were both a little woozy from the Alcohol. Soft Christmas songs played in the background as the two men watched a movie. Something about the quiet hum of the TV and the whooshing of wind outside was calming. However, Thomas was finding at hard to concentrate on the movie, because a certain immigrant had fallen asleep on his legs. Alexander’s head was rested on Thomas’ thighs, and his lips were slightly parted. Thomas could hear Hamilton’s steady breaths as he stared. Alexander’s eyelashes were long and soft, like a doe’s. Jefferson flushed.  
“You’re so cute.” He murmured as he ran his fingers through Alexander’s hair. His eyelashes fluttered.  
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”  
Thomas was startled at Hamilton voice. “W-what?”  
Hamilton grinned. “You’re like the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. I’ve loved you for forever.”  
Jefferson was confused. Had Alexander just confessed his undying love for him? He smirked. “Really? I could say the same about you.”  
Alexander propped himself up on one elbow so their faces were centimetres apart. Thomas stared into his eyes. They were beautiful. The fairy lights reflected in them, making them sparkle with pink spots. Their lips were millimetres apart from each other. Everything was silent.

Alexander closed the gap.

****

-back to present-

Thomas smiled as he fiddled with the ring on his finger. He slid it off and held it in the palm of his hand. The band was beautiful. Alexander had proposed to him last year. They had flown out to Paris, and Hamilton had asked him to marry him in front of the Eiffel Tower. He had said yes of course. That was the happiest moment of his life. They were going to grow old together, adopt a pet, have kids. But life had other plans. Thomas could hear footsteps. ‘Probably my imagination’ he thought. He swore he could hear a french accent, followed by a gasp and a cry. He thought he felt his head being laid on a lap and thought he felt hands stroking his face. There were imaginary voices speaking to him. His vision was hazy. Two voices sounded slightly familiar. ‘Just my imagination’ he thought. He tried to lift his head up but failed; his neck was too weak. He rolled his eyes up slightly, and could make out a face above him. ‘The face wasn’t real,’ he thought. He swore he could hear someone saying his name. He recognised the voice. “Funny,” he stated with a huff of laughter, “you sound just like Alexander.”

Thomas succumbed to the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) comments and kudos are always appreciated.


End file.
